


IronDad and SpideySon (Oneshots).

by Iron_SpiderGirl



Category: The Avengers
Genre: Alpha - Freeform, Bully Flash Thompson, F/F, F/M, Irondad, Kid! Peter Parker, M/M, Natasha babies her spiderbaby, Ned Is a Good Bro, Pepper Adopts Peter, Peter Parker is a cinnamon roll, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Happy Hogan, Protective Ned Leeds, Protective Tony Stark, Skip Wescott - Freeform, Soft Peter Parker, Tony Stark acting as Peter’s parental figure, Tony Stark is Peter’s biological dad, Tony adopts Peter, alternative universes, beta, nice Flash Thomspon, omega - Freeform, school trip to Avengers tower, spideyson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-04-07 10:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron_SpiderGirl/pseuds/Iron_SpiderGirl
Summary: These stories go out to all those grieving fans who just can't allow Endgame to be it for our favourite family.Unless otherwise mentioned, the stories will not always connect. This will means pairings will shift rather freely. There will be family fun, there will be teenage angst and unexpected edge, we all know the Spiderling is forcing. There will identity reveals, and field trips. And a whole of an embarrassed Peter.





	1. Talk to me, Pete (Chapter 1).

"Peter's anxiety after a certain incident, involving a building collapsing on him. Leaves with serious claustrophobia, yet it's the reminder that Skip Wescott exists, that causes the panic attacks. And suddenly, the youth can't even take the train, because he's scared to be touched. And he knows he can't keep up with what he's doing, but telling Tony is too hard because Tony would curl the boy up in a blanket and not allow him to leave. So telling Happy seems like Step One. Of course, step one is followed by two. And two, that's the difficult one. Admitting his problems to Tony." 

Or: life's too harsh for the youth to smile through, and one day he breaks, and blindly spills more then he knew he was hiding. 

(Not infinity war, or Endgame compliant.  
Aunt May is alive and well, However Tony and Pepper adopted Peter when he was ten years old. As Aunt May, struggled to afford to pay to feed the boy. Her Boy. And Tony would respect the boy's parents, to the end of time. )

Talk to me, Pete.

He was suffocating, being strangled, his limbs would be torn from his body, from his corpse. Taken from him. Snatched away, the very thing that keeps him human. His lungs danced like ballerinas, in his body. The pulled up, and twisted and dragged his breath away from him. And he cried. His voice had been stolen from him, and he found himself unable to ask for it to stop. He could stop it. Heavy hands, grasped the shoulders of the shaking boy, and he was dragged out the classroom. A sob, feel from his lips. Breaking the internal silence, and suddenly sound seemed to float back. He heard the teachers bangles quiver as she pointed Ned to the door, he heard Ned silently mutter "Please breath, Peter, your scaring me." He heard his classmates mutter in surprise, some on horror, others in curiosity. They wanted answers, on what was up with Peter and to be completely honest, so did he. It wasn't his first rodeo, well panic attack. As the School's therapist, named them. At least that was what she had said, a second ago right? Peter's eyesight was blurred, heavy black dots masked his vision. "Peter, I'm going to have to inform your guardian." Her eyes warily slid to the paper, widening. The impact immediate. Tony Stark, was his top guardian. "Shit, that's not something you see, everyday.." she muttered under her breath. Startled, as the boy nodded his head in response. "Guess not..." his words were sudden. How had he heard? 

Now, this was not what Happy had expected when Tony called him to his lab, under extremely urgent matters. "The kids school called, apparently he's sick or something, can you go collect him please? I'd do it myself but having Tony Stark pull up outside the school, would distract both students and teachers a like.." a heavy sigh, escaped Happy's lips however otherwise he only nodded in response. This truly wasn't how he expected to spend his day, and he left quickly with hidden effort to reach the Kid, as soon as he could. It didn't go unnoticed however to Tony, as a minor smirk fell upon his face as he gazed upon happy speeding out the drive, to fetch his child. He muttered a silent, that kid has strings over everyone, even though he was the only one who heard. He knew the others would agree. God, even Bucky adored the child. 

Happy's drive to the school, was 'rushed' to say the least.. He rather unconsciously broke at least two red lights. An action rare for the rather, steady man. Of course, car chases were rather uncommon but their existence was inevitable when he had Tony Stark sitting his ass, in the back of the car eighty percent of the time. And upon his eventual arrival, he was annoyed upon recognising he would have to collect the Kid, from the front desk. Another heavy sigh, left the mans lips. With the School's sheer size, Happy was pleased to find the front office in about two minutes flat, yet those two minutes were spent with an obvious speed to his walk, and a rather tense attitude, an a fear that the kid was sick. The sight that entered his eyes upon his arrival, melted Happy's rather icy heart. 

The kid, was laid almost dead in his seat. His skin was white, contrasting to the pink rings circling his eyes, his hair was flying away from his scalp, a mop of curls littering his head. An elder lady, perched next to him- a look of excitement clear in her face, faulted by Happy's entrance. He raised his hands, looking like he was about surrender. "I'm sorry to disappoint, but we couldn't send Tony Stark down here for obvious reasons, even though he wanted to come.." His voice fell short upon her deaf ears. She gazed disappointedly to the ground. "I'll need to see ID, your an affiliate of Tony's then.." her words were surprisingly affirmative, for her rather short height and subtle build. Happy nodded, whipping out his Stark Industries ID. If Happy ever had to name a moment, where he smirked proudly this seemed like a good enough story. Shock lined the woman's cheeks, as she gazed in surprise upon the man. "I'll need you sign some papers, you see- we can't have Peter's existence getting out to the general public, if we catch on that you told a single soul, and if you do- trust me, we will find out, you will be prosecuted, capiche?" A look of serious masked his otherwise worried features. God, what was up with the Kid? The woman found herself unable to do anything more then nod her head, in shock. Eventually she remembered how to speak, and she found herself agreeing if only, for her own safety. And following her rushed pen work. Happy and Peter left the building. 

The work to the car, was short definitely but nowhere near sweet. Rather opposing, in fact. "So, what's up. Have you been sick or something?" Peter could only shake his head, in response. "I had a panic attack, I think.." his words were hushed. "You think?" Happy asked surprised. Of course, he had dealt with Tony's. He should have recognised it from the kids demeanour. He was shaken. "-I mean, that's what the lady said. I don't really remember what happened, just getting dragged out of class, unable to breath and then the lady's suffocatingly silent office.." This startled Happy, jolting around was bad, very bad. Even Tony had never really struggled with dissociation following a panic attack, and he had some terrifying ones. "Do you feel, all here, right now, Peter?" He paused several times, stuck on how to word his upcoming statement. Peter froze, he shifted obviously as the two slowed nearing the car. It had now entered their view. "No, not really... about seventy percent, and that's more then usual.." Happy's gaze faltered, he hadn't expected the Kid to ever be perfect. Not with the life he lived, with the suffering he experienced, and had to blindly cause others. Because people didn't always deserve the best treatment, not when their own was terrible. Peter however, he didn't deserve this. "Do you know what causes it, Peter?" He asked turning to make eye contact with the youth, who rather blatantly ignored his silent request. Obviously not in the mood, or the headspace. To let the elder in. 

"Do you promise not to tell, Dad?" Happy's face exploded with shock, he hadn't be expecting that one. He knew if what the kid was about to say was serious, he had to tell him. However he turned once again to face the youth. "I promise, Pete. Now, talk to me." His words were softened, something he had to force himself to maintain. The boy was quite obviously in a frenzy. And Happy, was panicked that if he wasn't careful, he could further stress him out. "It started when I was younger, when- never mind, that's not important." Happy wanted to disagree and force the words out the kid, but he truly looked like he would choke, if he tried. "It got worse again, following homecoming... I know, you know that I was on the plane. But, but to get to the man was a harder task, then imaginable-" his chest tightened, and his throat felt like the Vultures wings were throttling him. He choked back a sob. "He-he dropped a building on me! I was so scared, Happy. But no-one came, I was trapped and no-one came. I guess that's life for you, I managed to force myself out but-" his gaze fell to the car that was now only a feet in front of them. "I've been struggling recently I guess, with the tight school hallways, and the- the train.." his words tore at Happy's guilt. Happy couldn't see the light at the end of Peter's tunnel, yet he could steady him, even if only for now. "Would you prefer I drive you to school, Kid. Morning, and afternoon? And don't try and say you don't want to bother me because- you couldn't Peter, no matter how hard you try." Peters features lit up, a faint smile coated his lips. "Really? You wouldn't mind?" His words were overjoyed, and a faint smile fell to Happy's face. "Not at all." 

And that's how it started, how Happy's days started, driving an hour and a half to drop off and return just to later drive back over, to collect the kid. Yet the look of peace coating Peter's face, made the experience worth it for Happy. Even if he wouldn't admit it.


	2. Talk to me, Peter (Chapter 2).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Peter's anxiety after a certain incident, involving a building collapsing on him. Mixes with serious claustrophobia, yet it's the reminder that Skip Wescott exists, that causes the panic attacks. And suddenly, the youth can't even take the train, because he's scared to be touched. And he knows he can't keep up with what he's doing, but telling Tony is too hard because Tony would curl the boy up in a blanket and not allow him to leave. So telling Happy seems like Step One. Of course, step one doesn't always go to plan.”
> 
> Or: life's too harsh for the youth to smile through, and one day he breaks, and spills more then he knew he was hiding. 
> 
> (Not infinity war, or Endgame compliant.  
> Aunt May is alive and well, However Tony and Pepper adopted Peter when he was ten years old. As Aunt May, struggled to afford to pay to feed the boy. Her Boy. And Tony would respect the boy's parents, to the end of time. )

Talk to me, Pete.

2 months later.

Silence was a blessing, Happy was deprived from. At least, that was Happy's front. Happy's coverup. Whilst he would never admit it. The Kid had leverage over the man, a lot of it. Because Happy had grown fond of the youth. With the hollow look in his eyes. Who would flinch as Happy as took a breath. Or yawned. Or turned the car, "too suddenly." 

Happy hadn't expected the Kid, to come out scar-free, not after every battle. Every Physical and Emotional battle, he navigated his paths blindly. Yet Happy knew this kid, from when the boy was barely a preteen. With a mess of curly hair, masking his forehead. With eyes warmer then melted chocolate. And childhood excitement That was maintained for most his life. It seemed to drown out, under the red rings circling his eyes. Under his silent sobs. Under his pitiful smile, faker then Happy informing Tony, he could just about tolerate the kids presence. He loved the kids presence. 

As soon as he had entered their lives, he saw a change in Tony. The genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist entered a new territory, fatherhood. And it suited him, more then he could have ever personally imagined. After being raised by a father, like Howard Stark. Tony believed fatherhood would not suit him. In fear, of ruining a child's life like his father once did his. Yet Tony was truly a good man. Even though he played the Asshole card, more than one would want to imagine. Happy knew the man. And he definitely knew how much Tony adored the kid. His kid. Peter, Tony honestly would would move stars for him. Which is why when Peter came to him, that night. His eyes were forced open, to the harshness that is reality. 

As Peter entered the car straight into the back seats, Happy turned to give the teen, a faint bit of recognition. A smile. Normally, Happy would be greeted with a high pitch, yet adorable "Hey, Happy." Yet silence lingered in the air, right when Happy- didn't want it. As his eyes fell upon Peter, his eyes widened. The boy's eyes mirrored Happy's own, his eyelids were rolled forward. And his iris gazed in horror, at the back of the chair facing him. His cheeks were pink, marks of weakness fell upon them. Not bruises, tears. His lips chattered, his teeth weren't visible. Yet if he knew anything, he knew Peter was probably grinding them as Happy even examined him. His skin white, it was the damage on his neck. That was the worst. The skin was like a galaxy, and blood must have risen to Happy's face. As his features tightened, anger swallowing his calm exterior. The boy's neck was littered in love bites. Yet there was no love in Peter's face. None, just fear. The kid, had been assaulted. 

Now, Happy normally would consider himself as a responsible driver, as responsible as it gets from the tower in fact. With Tony, treating his cars both like they were his children yet they were made of Lego, and were very expandable. And Pepper, she wasn't the best at driving.. Rather slow, very safe however which Peter also found a minor comfort. Natasha drove as if she was constantly being chased, which Peter often enjoyed but in his current state- he probably would have thrown up. Steve has too many rules for in the car, if Bucky was driving they were definitely on the run as "Drive, Drive, Drive!" Was the only mindset the man knew when situated in the drivers seat. And Wanda, Wanda was something special- though for simplicity, you could say she was like a slightly calmer version of Natasha. Only slightly. Peter's relief grew knowing it was Happy driving, allowing his brain to run straight over the fact Happy had run several red lights in well-placed panic. The mans flawed gaze, often found its way to the mirror to see the frightful image of tears, falling silently down the youths face. Happy thought back to the times, the Kid would sit and speak fondly on his generally bad day. The kid, truly looked like he the weight of the world resting upon his shoulders. 

It took twenty minutes. The ride from Peter's school to the Avengers compound. A ride, that legally should take no less then fifty minutes. But Tony, had a legal team and a mouth on him, that would silence all lawyers, in fear of losing a lot more then a court case going against, the genius. See, life was precious to some. Upon, eventual arrival. Happy parked the car, rather badly if anyone dared admit it, on property and was immediately in the back of the car, crouching over Peter. He turned to face the front of the car, "Friday- please call for Tony to come to my loca-" the elder shifted upon being interrupted. "P-please, don't Friday.." his voice was strained, and almost silent. He could barely even murmur. He could barely even breathe. Unbeknownst to Peter, Tony was long since on his way as per his "broken baby" function, if even Friday being the artificial intelligence she was, is able to detect the boy's stress levels increasing. Then there is some serious obvious upset. And Tony couldn't be having that. A curse escaped his lips, as he stormed into the elevator he recognised through the glass that the car was parked rather badly, as if done in a rush. Panic swarmed his body, attacking him harshly like hornets would. His lungs seemed to drip with honey, as his own breathing restricted. God, what could have happened to Peter?

Happy moved to a point of slowness, you would think he was turning to stone. As he lowered himself, into the seat next to Peter. The boy whimpered immediately, as a man he normally trusted with his life, got way too close for comfort whilst sitting a good three feet away. "Come on, Kid. I've said it before, I'm not going to judge you- or out you to your dad. Whatever you say, it can stay between us.." Peter's eyes showed a look of distrust. Trust me, the kid adored Happy but at this moment in time, the world was out to get him. And he couldn't trust anyone.

"S-Skip, was waiting outside for me.." His words fell short, and a look of horror fell on Happy's face. Still, the man had no idea who Skip was. And he made that clear. "Pete, Whose this Skip? Are they an ex?" Tears rose to Peter's eyes. And Happy cursed rather inaudibly, well Peter heard. But that was unavoidable. The kids hearing was rather phenomenal. "Okay, not an Ex then-" Happy paused, as Peters lip curled up an obvious frown lined his cheeks. "A b-babysitter.." Now Happy, paused for a good minute. Peter was a child, who had not needed a baby sitter in the past six years. Since moving into the tower. And the oldest he could have been, would have have nine. A baby sitter would at least be sixteen. A far, more audible curse escaped his lips. And he wasn't surprised as Peter slid back, in his chair. In obvious fear. A harsh sob, escaped his lips. Yet Happy, he was pissed. Peter has been assaulted by someone at the very least seven years older then him. Five years ago, when there was nothing they could have done. And today, when Happy was in the nearby proximity. Anger coated more of his body then skin. As he silently blamed himself, for not picking the kid up directly from the gate. "P-please don't tell Dad-" His words were mute, and filled with fear. "Peter, Tony needs to know. You were assaulted, twice now." Happy made a slow gesture towards Peter's next, and he rather insecurely adjusted his hood. "It was more then twice.." his gaze fell to Happy's feet. So he could monitor the mans movements, whilst avoiding eye contact. He could barely breathe. His chest tightened, and his throat seemed to swell. "How many times, Peter?" Happy's voice fell to deaf ears, at least he thought it did. The boy found himself in a ball, daring everyone to try separate his head from his legs. As he finally spoke. "Forty two times." 

Peter couldn't explain what happened after that, he remembered the flashes of bright lights. And words that fell to ash. Everything was too much. Sensory overload. He felt the hands grab at him, and he didn't remember screaming but he must have because his throat, was red raw when he eventually came to. And an all too familiar face, stared back at him. Panic swarming his features. Tony Stark. His adoptive father. He turned recognising both Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, pushing him into the ground. And a sob escaped his lips, followed by an unending waterfall of salty tears. "Kid, it's me, Tony. C-can I touch you?" Tony bit his lip, it was an awkward statement definitely but the kid was about choke on his own tears. He was horrified, upon his request being answered by only the slightest nod. The innocent bundle of the child in front of him, seemed to only get smaller. Steve and Bucky, nodded in tow backing away from the Spider-baby. And Tony neared the child, the boy was shaking. His neck was an agonising sight, and if it wasn't for the fact Friday had informed him of everything said between Happy and Peter, he wouldn't have been able to imagine what had happened. The unimaginable had happened, to a child. To his child. To Peter. Tony's parental instinct took over, and he found himself polishing the boy's face with his sleeve, tears built up in his own eyes. But he bit his lip, it was not his turn to show weakness. He couldn't show any weakness, not with Peter in the state, he was in. And his eyes fell dry. Tony moving at a pace comparable to a snails, gently wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders crouching further to the floor, the boy laid upon. And then his other arm came to complete it. Peter rested his head upon Tony's shoulder. "I-I'm sorry, I should have-" he was hushed almost immediately. "Peter, you are not the one in the wrong in this situation. Your the victim-" his words seemed to make Peter slide further into him. "But I should have been able to stop him, I-I'm S-Spiderman..." his words felt empty, lifeless. He didn't feel like Spiderman. Spiderman was strong, respectable, a true hero. Peter was weak, a kid, a mess. "Kid, your also Peter Parker, Whose the smartest and funniest Kid, I've ever met. But, a Kid all the same- you deserve a childhood. And he took that from you." Peter shifted his head, looking up at the elder man. A look of surprise masked his features. "But-" he was silenced one again. "No buts, Peter- God, Kid. I wish you had told me this sooner, before this.." he gestured towards Peter's shoulders causing the smaller boy to flinch. Tony muttered a curse, earning a minuscule glare from Steve. And he gazed back in minute annoyance. Steve swiftly turned to gaze upon Bucky. "Peter, it isn't your fault, please promise you won't blame yourself for this," Tony's hands fell upon Peter shoulders as he pushed the the boy's head off his shoulder, the eye contact was minor yet it seemed to boost the youths spirits a little. And a little, was better then nothing at all. Tony had determined this after the last, situation. "I promise, dad." Peters words were clearer now, and a faint smiled lined the mans lips, causing Peter to mirror it. "I'll get a legal team involved, you will never have to worry about-" Tony had to stop himself, "-about that monster again."

Peter's smile grew, as he recognised something. He needed to start being more open, with Tony. Because the elder man would truly do anything for him, as long as he just spoke to him.


	3. Silenced (Mature Themes).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twigged warning:   
> Mention of sexual assault.   
> Flash, doing the unspeakable to a non-consenting Peter.   
> Luckily, a certain someone breaks it up.  
> "Italics are for the summary, and more triggering moments."
> 
> "Peter escapes to the bathrooms having a panic attack about Skip, when Flash comes in and pins him against the wall and realised how delicious the smaller boy looks, and he's no longer in the right headspace and snaps out of it to find the younger crying. And he's never felt worse. A certain person didn't help with that."

A figure danced elegantly in the darkness, pattern bound. It edges mercifully, the ghastly background. The black, standing out more then anything on the face. Peter found himself distressed by the clock, except it wasn't the clock. His classmates hand had rather unconsciously, grasped Peter's delicate thigh. His jeans grazed the skin harshly. His face lit with obvious alarm, fear rooted into his veins. As buried memories bore through their coffin. As the teachers harsh gaze, fell upon Peter, a heavy sigh escaped her lips. 

"Pay attention, Parker! What's the answer to the question on the board?" Her eyes shifted precariously, concealed by her colossal frames, which balanced notably well. For their lack of frame. The teachers lip, faltered in obvious distress. Peter was an almost muted boy, and from her knowledge only had Ned and Michelle for friends. Which is why the idea of sitting him, next to the boisterous boy entered her head when setting seats, that year. A common feature, in the ladies lessons. Peter had learned that the hard way, and learned to live with it. It truly hadn't ever been too bad, in fact he had often gotten lucky upon pairings. That school year though, Parker luck had returned, and its presence was overwhelming. It wasn't something, to just be ignored. He discovered this, as with a wide, bright smile lining her cheeks- she requested Peter and Flash to sit together. They were on the row leading straight to the door. At the very back, obscured from society, from what appeared to be reality. Peter determined this within the first week of term. Flash determined if he was going to sit with the petite teenager, he would enjoy himself. 

Of course, the two discovered they have very different interests. However a favourite of Flash's, was bothering Peter. It had allowed him the view, as horror masked Peters face. Flash observed on how the younger, would blindly bite his lip. When his stress levels were raised. Flash enjoyed seeing the boy, powerless. So frail, so fearful. It was an autumn lesson when it happened. And it wasn't intentional at all, at least not at first. Flash   drew his hand, slowly up his thigh. Grasping as what he swore should be a mix of limited fat and muscle, coating his thighs. His legs felt overly boney. At no point did it come to his mind, he had a hold of Peter's leg and not his own. Not until he recognised Peter's form soften in his seat, and he was being knocked every so often, by the boy's shaking. Yet Flash was intrigued by the others anxious behaviour. 

So when the teacher finally spoke up. "Pay attention, Parker! What's the answer to the question on the board?" Nearly everyone was surprised by Peter Parker's response. For the first time ever, it seemed he didn't know it. At least, the mask of shock mounting his face, spaced lips, and wide eyes gave off that impression. "C-can I go to the toilet, please miss." The teacher nodded in a minor response, before rolling her eyes back to the class, selecting an athletic boy towards the front, she found herself rather oddly concerned about the youth, that was Peter. So as five minutes turned to ten, she knew she would have to send a student, make sure he was alright. 

Peter dashed out the now silent room, in obvious horror. If it wasn't for his gymnastic abilities, he could swear- he would have once face-planted leaving the room in the state, he was. "Come on, Peter, it will be fun." Skip's words were burned into his head, his memories. Trust me, he wanted to forget at all costs, what the man had done too him. But he couldn't. So Peter had forced them, to the back of his mind. Where he proceeded to lock them away, with a minute brass key. So why were they coming back? As he entered the hallway, his vision blurred and the halls he knew like the back of his hand, became shockingly unfamiliar. Yet, he forced himself through the mute halls, well mute for the average person- the clicking of the clock filled his head, the mutters of students and the screams of teachers, similar to the teacher he wanted it to all go quiet. Until finally he observed a  familiar toilet door. He wished he could say he entered the toilets, as one would. Yet carelessly, he launched himself with great speed at the door nearly knocking the poor, old thing off its hinges. It screeched, with personal agony yet overcame it as the door slammed shut following Peter in. Still, he blasted through the room into the third stall, the end stall. He had been delighted to find the room desolate. 

Upon his entry into the toilet, as one casually broken child would. He fell to the floor, immediately. His arms numb under him. He pressed his back against the wall, cringing at the feeling of his spine grinding upon it. He felt gross. Dirty. Disgusting. "Peter, listen to me- it's our little secret, your smart Einstein, your my little Einstein." He recalled Skips' hand curling his soft, chocolate locks round a brawny finger, a ghoulish smirk fell to his face as he knew. Peter could keep a secret. As he was too scared for what Skip called, punishment. Wasn't what he was doing, punishment enough? Peter's hands latched onto his own hair swiftly, his gripped tightened. And he screamed internally, out loud however? he sobbed, tears tearing harshly through the air, burning his skin. Rolling back further on the ground, his shoes aggressive dug into the wall. Normally, Peter would have the strength knock it over rather unconsciously and now no thoughts needed to prevent him from exposing himself. Because he had never felt more human. More like scum, Skip taught him that one..  He felt numb, to say the least. His head fell into his knees, his arms tightening around him quickly, as if for safety. As the sound of the door creaking open further startled him. A sob escaped his lips, as he choked back tears.  He buried his head, further into himself. If he couldn't see them, they couldn't see him, right? Wrong. 

Flash's curiosity was sparked now, he rather subconsciously lifted his hand to his face. Gazing over the rough skin, that had just blindly caressed Peter's leg. His jeans were so tight on his slender thighs. A feminine feature, that went unnoticed by Flash. Until now. And Flash who so determinedly would always ridicule the boy, found his interests sparked. So as the teachers menacing gaze, fell to the clocks bare face. He was as startled, as she was. It had been ten minutes. Since the boy had left, white as a sheet. You think he had seen a ghost. And unbeknownst to all, he had. A ghost from his past, a ghost of someone, not dead. No, someone who lived a perfect life, after causing Peter a lifetime of suffering. "I'll go look for him, Miss." Flash stood quickly, the words lingered heavily in the air. Shocked gazes, falling upon him. Flash was known for hating Peter. Many assumed he was just planning on kicking the kid, whilst he was already down. Not, that anyone in the class truly cared. Maths was a lesson, Peter never left an impression in, it was done effortlessly. The kid, was a recognised nerd. That's it. At least, that's what most thought. Flash had been stunned, as the teacher nodded pointing to the exit, informing him to take both his and Peter's bag as the lesson was soon to end. And rather reluctantly, Flash retrieved both. Contemplating, hurling the others bag in the bin, he decided against it. Luckily, for Penis Parker he was feeling nice. 

He reached the closest toilet, swiftly rather effortlessly, in fact. Yet was startled, as the door further screeched as swiftly forced it open, entering the room. The room was rather silent, yet a harsh sob tore through the silence. Flash sighed, God this kid needs get over himself. He stormed over, edging closer to the door. "Come on out, Penis." He wasn't startled as another sob, entered his ears. He was as the door slid open however revealing a soft, broken boy with eyes circled with red rings. A telltale sign of a crybaby. Flash's dark eyes, were met with softer milk chocolate ones. Flash neared the shaking boy, who moved away swiftly eventually cornering himself. Flash was now right in his face. The look of fear in Peter's eyes, Flash savoured it. He craved it. He leant forward, and as Peter rose his arms for added protection, a weak attempt to separate himself from the taller boy. This felt all too familiar. "If you listen to me, Peter- it will be easier." Skips poison laced words, lingered in his head and he let out: a faltered gasp, as Flash seized his bony wrists. And Peter, he was too out of it to tear himself from the obviously weaker man. Peter was the weakest, in this situation. Flash smirked, as his gaze fell upon the shorter boy taking a moment look him, up and down. Now Flash, heavily believed he wasn't gay but Peter, he could work with the boy's baby face, feminine features and a surprisingly full asset, that was his ass. He backed Peter, fully against the wall, sliding the boy's wrists down the wall and with a quick release of Peter's right arm, it plunged to the boy's waist immediately and so did Flash's hand. He drew his finger up, feeling a surprising amount of muscle, on the otherwise scrawny boy. 

Peter realised instantaneously, he was not the one in control. Of his actions, of his thoughts, of his body. Flash stole it from him, just like Skip once did. Speaking of Flash, the boy's taller form leaned into Peter forcing the boy's tiny frame, onto the sinks counter. Grinding down on the youth. And a harsh sob sounded. They had been their the entire time, Flash just hadn't noticed. He had been distracted by the pretty boys, frame. The boy who stood in his grasp, sobbing,  muttering the words, help me, over and over again. And Flash forced himself back, staring at the shorter boy in shock. He gazed over his hands, what had he done? The bell threw both of them off, only a second following. Yet no students entered. Peter looked at the elder, in obvious distress. "I'm sorry.." he murmured. "Sorry? What do you have to be-" Metal arms curled around the boy's body, they were icy on his skin, the man turned slowly cursing under his breath. "IronDad, here to the rescue." Tony Flipping Stark, said shoving the monster into a wall for added effect, before roping him up. The next scene, was what truly surprised Flash, Tony rushed to Peter's side, who was now a curled up mess, on the floor.

"Pete, can I touch you?" The older man purred, and the youth responded strictly through a weakened nod. And Flash watched on in horror as Tony backed the kid into his lap, sitting now in far more casual clothes. He had one arm thrown gently over the kids farthest shoulder, and the other massaging his scalp digging his hair, through the teens kid, far more innocently then Flash himself had. And Flash whimpered rather carelessly, he was truly dead. Tony's head shot up. Well placed anger, radiated from the man. "Flash, right? I would say we need to talk but I have no fucking words, for you. Your so done here, Kid. In fact, your lucky I haven't killed you already." Flash only nodded. Fear swirling through his veins. He truly had fucked up. Peter looked over in misplaced guilt, yet the boy was silent. He was too upset, to speak. And Tony must have noticed this, as suddenly he was lifted into the mans arms, at first he tensed up before laying his head on the offers shoulder. Tony tightened his grasp on the kid. "I'm reporting you for attempted sexual assault, luckily for you- your a student, and will get a few years tops" Tony hissed, draping an arm protectively over Peter's back. "I can't let someone do this again, not a third time.." Flash's head perked up weakly, only now did he consider how much his back wrecked. I guess being in agony, does that. A third time? So Flash likely wasn't the first. Oh, shit. Flash's face fell, that's why Peter was so uncomfortable in class. "I'm sorry." The words left his mouth quickly, and whilst he honestly sounded apologetic. A sorry just wasn't going to cut it for Peter's apparent, adoptive dad. "Sorry, just isn't going to cut it."


	4. Milk and Honey.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past abuse, causes Peter to develop an eating disorder. Tony doesn't know how to help, or cope.

Sickening. His frantic pleadings we're bound with sugar, rolling out his muzzle as drool would. His chapped lips moistened by fibs. They poured out like condensed milk. Sweet, and thick. Low in spice, however, the situation remained piercingly sweetened over. Ironic, being they had been bottled for so long. You think, they would have become out of date and sour, but Peter’s possessed tragic tactics had yet to standardize so they suited the commotion supremely. With an overwhelming insight of decency, and a justifiable amount of pride. Tony had rejected to drag recognition to the unsightly the spectacle that happened to be Peter, and his disordered tendencies. Tony didn’t need to be a genius, to confirm the indications. And Peter struggled to swallow, the man's body of sorrowful declarations, the statements tore at the adolescences outer surface. A surface formulated by a hoax grin and an emphatic belief, that couldn’t be faker if Peter himself happened to be a barbie. With a nineteen-inch abdomen, and a load of one hundred and ten pounds at an excellent five foot eleven. It just so happened these ideals fed Peter and his sick fantasy, not food. Yet Peter happened to be a surprisingly excellent performer. However, he felt unmasked. He felt like his homeland was graced by rejected visitors. So severely, he believed he was better alone, that he was just fine. So as the gentleman above him scorned him. A heavy exhalation expired his thinner lips. The adolescent had collapsed in the cafeteria, that lunch. And that wasn’t something Tony Stark, his dad would permit the lad to live down remarkably easily. The gum between Tony’s teeth establish itself abruptly tough as slab confectionery, and he distinctly speedily pocketed it. His fists fairly mechanically trembling. As he ripped both swiftly from the intensities and the lush gloom that was the now-familiar, cautiously folding his spindly fingers over the student's bony shoulders. A gaze of aversion veiled his expression. And Peter, he couldn’t accept it. 

His brims buckled up, with evident objection. His gaze faltering with the mature, however, softened spheres, staring right through him. As if he happened to be an apparition. A phantom of a lad, who was previously the spitting representation of a poster boy. Presently a subdued, hollow bag of bones. With deep orbs, previously professedly description perfect with a milk chocolate luminosity. The gaze of tranquillity on his face maintained for almost, all of his fifteen years. That was all wasted away. He was dismantled. His orbs wide with anxiety, and uneasiness disguised his lovely characteristics. 

“Peter.“ 

“I’m sorry, you have the interview promptly, don't you? I shouldn’t have hauled you out, please-“ 

“Peter, listen to me. We can’t maintain this, functioning like nothing is amiss. You collapsed lining up to obtain your lunch. Except you weren’t, we’re you? You were taking a chair at the side, contemplating your companions eat because you haven’t been. Have you?” 

Silence staggered in the atmosphere. And tears welled up in Peter’s orbs prompting Tony to swear profanely. How ample of a moron he continued. He immediately examined he requires a civilized proposition to come at the sensitive lad. His unstable boy. 

”I'm sorry.” 

Tony shook his head in instantaneous acknowledgement. ”Don't you dare apologize, this isn't your fault, Peter.” The boy mustering up the courage neared his father encompassing the individual before him in a tense hug. Tony willingly reflected this. The taller man authorizing the kid to cinch on to his shirt, as tears stroked the boy's fragile cheeks. Tony acknowledged the nod of Peter's head. As his shirt creased in immediate response.

”How long, Peter?” 

The explanation had been extremely stifled by tears and a saturated shirt, Tony scarcely overheard it but fortunately, he had. ”Six months.” Peters utterances we're high pitch, virtually childlike. Tony realized at that point, this wasn't Peter acting out or moreover striving to lose weight. This was a distraction from the disturbing reality. Peter had been molested. Spiderman had been sexually violated. Tony had unearthed this touring Peters proclamation on how long it had been transpired on. As Tony dared ask why this started. ”Skip Westcott.” His utterance muted, and tight-lipped.

”Our tailor? Did he body shame you or something?” 

”He touched me.” 

To declare Tony hungered for torturing a man was establishing this current situation remarkably gently. Nevertheless, he wouldn't dare allow Peter out of his eyesight.Not presently, not ever. 

”I couldn't- I didn't understand how to deal with it, my skin no longer felt like mine, I felt like someone dominated me. Like I wasn't in control..” Tony’s orbs unfolded swiftly. He understood.

”So dieting then?” The statement fell out of his entrance surprisingly firmly. Peter’s gaze fell to the earth. His fangs chattered, his lips moist with tears. 

”I wasn't aiming to lose weight, but the restriction gave me sanity, I felt sufficient. The more limited my intake, the more the power I had over my individual physique. Even with Skip caressing it-” 

”Peter, are you saying it occurred more than once?” Peter incapable to enunciate, solely nodded his crown in despair. Fearing that his dad would think less of him, authorizing himself to remain used like that. Tony heaved, resentment drawing through his carcass over blood. ”How many times, Peter?” 

”Eight.” 

Tony grasping the lad gently below his armpits, hoisted him up into a tight embrace. Recognising, how small the boy was caused Tony to curse under his breath, unbeknownst to even Peters pointed ears. ”It's going to get better, Pete.” And rather surprisingly, it did.


	5. New to this (Harley x Peter.)

Harley x Peter (With Tony being a good dad, and mentions of Skip Westcott.) 

Now, Harley cherished Peter. In truth, he adored him. And personally, he felt comfortable expressing that. Peter, however, was less than relaxed on the subject. Being the pair had only been dating three weeks. And Peter. He didn’t want to rush it. Or rush anything. Maybe, it was his lab experience factoring in. Whatever the case, Peter believed in balance. Equilibrium. Harley knew this. Considered it often, in fact. At times, he appreciated it. The act was nostalgic to Harley as if this was an elementary school relationship. 

Peter’s innocence, a tragic matter however as Harley couldn’t always enjoy it. Not when his boyfriend, was terrified to kiss him. To experience a romance destined for students their age. Harley dreamed of the boy’s soft hands, caressing him. Dreamed of moments such as holding hands, and wet kisses. Harley craved the touch of the youth, yet appreciated the presence instead. Peter was always there for him. Just like Harley for Peter. Harley could never complain. He could wait. 

However, Harley had desires and frantic feelings. The youth was desolate and grew bored, yet he remained mute about his distress. That was until a personal session between Tony and him. The elder man's weary eyes met Harley's disappointed orbs. ”God, Harley what's wrong? And don't say nothing, because your face is screaming at me.” 

Harley's gaze fell upon the man. ”it’s- okay, this may come across as selfish but as you know I've been dating Pete, a month now. He hasn't kissed me once.” Tony’s face fell, he hadn't predicted Harley so swiftly proclaiming this being- it hit Tony like a bullet. He didn't know. Peter hadn't told him. 

”Harley, listen to me. Don't let him feel uncomfortable.” Tony’s statement was sudden, stunning the youth. Who only bounced his head. Harley understood that day, that humans are tragic. As Tony clarified an article to Peters past, the boy didn't know. 

Their first date was supposed to be perfect. An evening at the carnival. Encompassed by animated music, fair rides, trash grub Tony would slaughter them for consuming and a pretty environment. It was deemed to be perfect. And then everything went awry. 

Upon arrival, they found the location to be overrun. Further alarming Peter, who was twisting his delicate fingers around the short sleeves of the polo shirt Tony had talked him into adorning. Harley had complimented him immediately, silently praising the youngers choice of pairing it with jean shorts. A blush had erupted in the boy's pale skin and a smile coated his cheeks. Harley couldn't get enough of it. Yet the stress was eating away at the youth. 

The couple bounded towards the festival games, Harley desperate win Peter a gift. And rather unsurprisingly being he is Tony Stark’s ward at this point, he won. An enormous husky plush, that Peter squeezed tightly. Cheering his appreciation to his sweetheart. Before he placed a sweet kiss on Harley's cheek. Delight swarmed the elder boy and pent up desperation and he curled his arm around the boy's tiny waist. Peter went limp in his grip, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. ”H-Harley, please let-” 

”Oh, come on Pete” forgetting Tony's advice, Harley's desperation bested him. He was craving Peters touch. 

”Eh Kid, let the pretty boy down.” A voice came suddenly, and Harley was pleased to be clasping Peter, as the youth further tensed up. Harley's head span to confront the elder man, he looked to be in his late twenties. Coming upon double, Peters age. He could recognize why the tiny boy, would be intimidated. 

With all the southerner in Harley, he shook his head. ”Eh, listen up- Pretty boy here, is my boyfriend and he didn't appreciate your concern.” Harley gently steered Peter behind him, recognizing he stood several inches above the smaller youth. Mirroring the man’s before him, own height. The man's features were daunting, definitely the face of a criminal. 

”Awh, but Einstein and I go way back, don't we Petey Pie?” as Skips words parted his thin lips. A heavy sob escaped Peters, torturing Harley. Who suddenly recognised the nightmare before him. Peters rapist. 

”You sick bastard!” 

Harley normally wouldn't be pleased to have Tony ridicule him for assault, especially not in a public place. But with his boyfriend's rapist, under Tony who is in the full iron man suit and has a gun to the psychos head. Obviously desperate shoot the man's brains out. Said man, having a shiner so bright you think he would have ran into a Vibranium wall. And Peter hugging Harley so tightly, the stuffed plush is almost crushed between them. Harley can think of worst ways, for a first date to end.


End file.
